


call me kamukura

by orangequest



Series: call me [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, Hope's Peak, M/M, Mentions of Brain Surgery, Pre-SDR2, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangequest/pseuds/orangequest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Few people knew the story of the enigmatic Kamukura Izuru, the dirty little secret of Hope's Peak Academy. Even fewer people lived to tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2. Chapter One

Fifteen feet.

That’s the closest the pallid boy with the snowy hair ever came to a certain Hinata Hajime. In the hallways, bathrooms, hell, he even appeared in the classrooms that were strictly Reserve Department only. He never said a word or made a sound, just stood there, staring from that same distance—and most of the time, Hinata couldn’t tell if the boy wanted to kiss him or kill him. Over time, he learned his name, and he learned that he wasn’t a reserve student. Komaeda Nagito, Super High School Level Good Luck, and Super High School Level Creep.

“Wh—“ Hinata’s words were cut off as a cold, thin hand slammed over his mouth, followed by another wrapping under his right arm and around his torso. Of course, he struggled—what high school boy wouldn’t—but his movements ceased once he felt the hot breath ghosting over his ear, and the warmth pressing against him from behind.

“I always wondered when I’d get to talk to ‘No-Talent Hinata’...” Someone breathed in his ear, the smug grin practically oozing through their voice. Once more, he thrashed in their hold, ugly anger bubbling within him. They just laughed, like it was a game and Hinata was losing too poorly to be taken seriously. Somehow, the owner of the skeleton-hands was able to hold the reserve student back patiently, until he realized he wasn’t going anywhere unless this guy wanted him to. “Trash like you should be grateful... talentless wastes of space undeserving of a school like this...” He gasped for air as the hold around him tightened. “Undeserving of this, Hinata-kun, the cure for the hopeless. Who better than you? The King of the Untalented,” they mocked, and Hinata felt angry tears threaten to spill over. They were halted, however, by the rustling of paper. “I’ll give it to you, on one condition, Hinata-kun.”

The moment he was unrestrained, his fists flew, hoping he would somehow hit his target in the darkness. Could he ever feel more humiliated than he did now? He didn’t think so. All the mainstream students usually left the Reserve Department alone, seeing as there were separate classes, teachers, meals and dormitories. All but one...

“K-Komaeda?!” Again, he laughed, but this time in was louder—a small sound in his throat, akin to hiccups, that bubbled into insane cackling. “Who else? Who else but the one beneath their own class could do this... could give this away for such a trivial price?” Mocking? No, that wasn’t quite it. His voice was calmer; it still had the subtle air of superiority, but at this time Hinata felt more that Komaeda’s “high horse” was a donkey painted to look like one, in hopes that someday, it would be. “You’re quiet... but that’s all I really need to hear... I know you want to leave—please, Hinata-kun, at least let me give you a, ah, proper explanation.” What the hell is up with this guy? Hinata thought, tightly clenching his fists at his sides. Proper explanation? What explanation could be appropriate for holding me hostage in a janitor’s closet?! Is he... trying to hold... my hands? “The paper I hold with me... can give you what you don’t have. You can belong here. I was going to sign up, for this, but I’m already enrolled... in the mainstream courses, that is. They want your kind. Reserve students,” Komaeda spat as though the very word tasted vile. “I wasn’t going to help them find someone else... selfish as I can be...” he chuckled and even though there was no light, Hinata could feel that same, eerily calm smile forming, “then I saw you.”

“What...?”

“A perfectly ordinary, talentless, boring student, taking a drink from Hope’s water fountain... that was what I first saw of you. It made me so angry, Hinata-kun! Then... then I thought about the project, and—“ “You started following me. Everywhere.” “I didn’t want to believe it, but seeing you every day, it was the only thing that convinced me.”

“That still doesn’t excuse you being a total creep.”

“That wasn’t my intention, Hinata-kun.” Intentions. As if Hinata cared what his intentions were, he just didn’t want to be stalked, or have to constantly turn around just to find that he was never alone. Still, if what Komaeda said was true, and this “project” could help him be someone...

“So what do you say?”


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it really hope, or just another kind of despair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Okay, I admit, I only have an idea of Matsuda's character, as I haven't read Dangan Ronpa Zero, but I will be reading it soon, at which point I'll revise this.

The neurosurgeon opened the door to be faced with both a welcome yet unexpected guest. Hinata leaned forward in his restraints and saw naught until the surgeon stepped aside to allow the person access. He was short, the newcomer, and walked with a rigidity he hadn’t seen even in the principal. His neck-length charcoal hair bounced and swayed, the stray spike on top flying away, but lunging forward once he stopped. His hair framed his face, contrasting with his mint green eyes. His expression was sour, but for some odd reason, Hinata wasn’t fazed by it. “Hinata Hajime... what a quaint name. I’d say it’s the only thing that really had any chance of making you something other than hopelessly average.”

“Who are you?” Hinata’s voice remained steady, but the dread in his chest was constricting. The boy across from him straightened his loose tie and stared the other down.

“Matsuda Yasuke, Super High School Level Neurologist, and more importantly, your neurologist,” he revealed, without a missing a beat. A hesitant smile graced the restrained student’s features. “So who would be the unlucky sap you talk to before I put you under?” It melted instantly. Hinata Hajime—while labeled as “friendly” and “easy to talk to”—had no close friends. In fact, though most of his class (despite all being freshmen) had already given their school rings away to a close friend or a lover, he still had his. Of course, he didn’t flaunt his loneliness, he kept the ring buried in spare uniforms.

“I don’t...”

“Don’t mistake obligation for kindness, we are required by contract to let you visit with any student from either the Reserve or mainstream departments. You will have ten minutes, during which you are to say nothing about the Hope Cultivation Project, or you will face disciplinary action.” Matsuda’s attitude went from irritated to intimidating alarmingly fast. “Komaeda.” “Hm?” “I want to see Komaeda.” “Komaeda Nagito? My most frequent patient? Submissive, kinky bastard? Boner for his twisted ideas of hope?” Hinata wanted to know why Komaeda would see a neurologist rather than a psychologist, but held his questions as Matsuda shrugged and left. Even though it would make no difference, Hinata tested the restraints again, and found they hadn’t loosened in the slightest. What would they need to tie him down for? He’d be unconscious during most of the surgery, anyway, wouldn’t he?

“What have I gotten myself into...”

_“Please excuse the interruption. This is Matsuda Yasuke speaking, on behalf of the Medical Science department. We request that Komaeda Nagito report to the Neurology lab at once. Repeat, Komaeda Nagito, report to the Neurology lab.”_

Hinata looked up to see Matsuda on the announcement monitor, looking as displeased as he sounded. Hinata wondered if his new Super High School Level talent would mean he would also have to deliver announcements. Another shudder-worthy thought would be becoming a Super High School Level News Anchor, and having to deliver them day after day. He never did enjoy Journalism...

Either the AV room was close by the Neurology lab, or Komaeda was really a Super High School Level Track Star, as the door swung open not even a minute after the announcement monitor went offline. Neither his textbooks or backpack were anywhere on his person; he must have a free period then. The smile on his face was obnoxiously bright, showing pearly teeth that made Hinata conscious of his own braces. Was this... the “Hope Cultivation Project” what made Komaeda happiest? Not the riches he was said to have, not the freedom he possessed, but a research project that would seem silly to anyone but the boy at the door and the boy strapped down?

“Ah, Hinata-kun! You got lucky that I was kicked from class! Otherwise I... would have no reason or desire to see you as you are; talentless filth,” he said, his tone light, but cold all the same. Suddenly, Hinata wished he would’ve put up resistance when they strapped him to the chair.

_Stop, stop, don’t come this way, dontdontdontdontdontdont—_

“I can’t wait to see the things you’ll do... the heights of hope you’ll reach... wouldn’t the despair of uniformity become the ultimate stepping stone for hope even greater than what already exists here, at this school?” he asked, eyes alight in something other than happiness, as Hinata had previously thought. No, this was... insanity. “Now, you’re nothing, no one would even bat a lash if you died in this very room, but this project... it can save you, Hinata-kun! Don’t you see? You can be like us... and from the hope to be born, find the greatest, but most mysterious hope of hall... haha, love, Hinata-kun!” Eh? “I’ve seen that quote flying around on the forums for Hope’s Peak. They were talking about trivial things like who’s the most attractive female student, but I thought it was fitting... don’t you agree?” He stood behind Hinata now, his arms around his neck, loose yet suffocating. “They also talked about how... it feels wrong and disgusting, love between the talented and talentless.” Komaeda’s hands shook and he tried to fist his hands in Hinata’s shirt to stop them. “They think it would be good to have my talent, but they’re so far from the truth... ‘I wish I had your luck,’ people tell me, but... no one understands... what it really is...” His hair felt wet, now, but he was still attempting to process what Komaeda meant, what his whole purpose was. “That’s why I had to choose you.” “What...?” “You and I... we’re much more alike than you think, Hinata-kun,” he breathed, “On the outside, we seem like opposites... but at the core, aren’t we both trapped in a cycle we’ve tried desperately to escape? I... the future free from this cycle is like a door, Hinata-kun, and this project... it’s the key, don’t you understand?”

_“It’s the key, don’t you understand?”_

_“Itsthekeydontyouunderstand?”_

_“Understandhinatawhydontyouunderstand”_

_“imtrapped5h5eremyt%i$meisupyou((haveever^%ythin/gwaiting”_

_“̶praiśe͏m̧e͞#whe &^ni͠mg͏o̢ne̷”͠ ͏“̸t̵͎̣̯̟͉̳̺e̬͓̺̟̼l̺͙̱̹͈̺̀l̤̜̥͙̞̺t̳̭̫̦̻̲̘͘h̯̪̙͔͔em̻̰̟̼̲̘i̭̮̝̝̮͎%t̤̖̞̪̳̤ͅw̷̦a̘̩̜̩̳̘s̮̥͖͓̹ͅm̵̩@y̺̱̜d̼̠̟͙̮̺o̘̟̟̯̼̥i̙̥̘̰͚͝n̝̰̟͙͚̦̝g̨̲͔__t̀e̘͎̺̝̪̭͢^^*l̳͜l̵͙th̗͖e̞̼̰͇̟̫m̙͔̘t̜͕2346/h̡e̤̤̰̤͇̫u̻͞l͓t̲͉͎͡ͅi̶̜͔̪̯̦̠̩m̵a͓̜͈͇t̘͙͕e͏̯̮͖̺̬̺ẖ̬̯̣͝o͏̟̹̙͔̦͖p̵e͏̱̯̤̘̜”̨͇̞ ͔̩̠̦̭͔͟ͅ_

_“͢f̮͕̙̣o̳̰͉͜ͅr̘̝g̻̖e̦t̨͎̼̳̦f͍́o̰̰̭̻$%^ &g͙̗̩̤̱̟̗e̢̤̜̘t̳͎͕͉̙̘̠f̷͉̱o͍̱̼̪̻̱r̲&*ge̱ṭ̰̲̦̗p̝l̥̰̼#%s̫̤̦e̲̥͍̭d̹̪͖o̯̰n̶͍͉͕̼͔t̰̻͓̤̳̞͇f̺̤̪̤̱ò̙͍̯r̳̙̝͍̬͍͖g̶̖̟e͍̹̱̖͠t͍͙̦̙͘f̪o͓̩̠͎͇͈̻r҉͚ge̲̳̹t̯̯͚f̙͔͚̰͠o̦͕̪̻̟͚r̸ǵe̛t̥͘”̨̭̯̹̫̜̩_


End file.
